


Ishguardians- The Factions of Coerthas

by Risukage



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Final Fantasy XIV - Freeform, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Inspired by Twitter, Ishgard (Final Fantasy XIV), Mafia AU, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25181296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risukage/pseuds/Risukage
Summary: So a bit of artwork on Twitter and a comment thread later and I just HAD to write a modern AU for our favorite Heavensward characters.  I don't care if I get hate for this, it was fun as hell to write and I'm still grinning.The fighting in Ishgard has gone on long enough, and Aymeric de Borel and his team of elite bodyguards are prepared to take over the city and fix it.  Using money, muscle, hustle, and all sorts of underground connections they slowly liberate the city from the crushing grasp of the Holy See, the mafia group that has held the populace in its grip for as long as anyone can remember.  Now the Dravanian Horde, which has been content to cause trouble elsewhere in Coerthas, is planning to make their mark on the city, and Aymeric isn't having any of that, either...
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel & Haurchefant Greystone & Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. The Measure of His Reach

**Author's Note:**

> Like the summary says, this is just a one-shot thing, a bit of a shitpost, and a bit of an attempt to tell a short story with a bit of intrigue. Blame/credit @888beru for the hot art and @ScorpiusK1 for the idea. :)
> 
> Also, I was playing the Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex soundtrack while writing this, which not only fucking _slaps_ , but exactly fit the tone I was aiming for. [Torukia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zMNE4HQebg) in particular got played several times, as did [Living Inside the Shell](https://youtu.be/zuo0YOiPPlk). (YouTube links, can't remember how to make them pop to new window, screw it. XD)
> 
> Here's hoping I got enough tags in for this, I feel like I'm missing so many potential ones, but it's half past four in the morning and no shit, I sat down and did this in one go. NO BETA READERS, I POST LIKE A TANK WITH ALL COOLDOWNS READY. :D
> 
> EDIT 24 September: Yeah, nope, going BIG with this, more chapters are happening. :3

The courier knocked on the heavy wood door of a familiar penthouse office, waiting patiently to be admitted. They were immediately sized up, scrutinized, considered, and then accepted in a fraction of a second by two well-dressed and apparently unarmed people, who also had the casual air of perilous sorts that considered needing weapons to take down most people to be unsporting. The other two people in the room nodded politely to and ignored him, respectively, and the courier opened the flap of their messenger bag, stamped with the logo for “Courier of Light Deliveries,” for its contents to be inspected.

“Hey Lucia, sorry I’m running a bit late, almost had to kick one of those Ward wankers in the balls before I left. Zeph kept him from making a total dumbass out of himself, but still, honestly, that guy had better be crazy good at his job for them to keep him on the payroll.” The tall, platinum-haired woman who had answered the door gave the satchel a quick visual inspection, just to be sure, but she recognized and knew the courier, so it was less to check _them_ and more in case they had been compromised by one of the other factions.

They had not, and Lucia made a gesture to the man seated behind the desk that the courier was clear and tugged at the hem of her jacket to straighten it, her suit in a dark charcoal with a silvery satin shirt and red accents. The other person who had examined the courier from the other side of the room was attired similarly, but his shirt was trimmed in blue, and surprisingly, while she favored sturdy boots with a solid heel, he favored heeled ones in a slightly more stylish cut. He ran his fingers through tousled, silvery-blue hair and gave the courier a flirty grin. “Hey, luv, still running errands? I swear I saw you pop by earlier this morning.”

Grinning, the courier handed over the envelope that they had been tasked to deliver to the man behind the desk, taking a moment to appreciate the elegantly-cut black suit that he wore, a dark blue shirt under it with a matching handkerchief tucked just so into a breast pocket, matching the single earring hanging from a pointed ear, and the same color as his eyes. Soft, black curls shifted to frame his face as he opened the envelope and removed its contents, reading the letter with his chin on his fist and his face inscrutable.

They turned back to the other man and shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s my life, just getting sent everywhere at someone else’s whim. Some days this job feels like a series of fetch quests that the devs threw in to pad a game that wasn’t quite long enough or something, y’know? But it pays well enough, and I can’t argue with that with the state of the city and all.” The man behind the desk pulled out a fountain pen and wrote a reply in a neat, flowing script, and the courier nodded toward the fourth person in the room. “And I swear he was doing that earlier when I dropped by this morning. Halone’s tits, Estinien, I think you play with that thing more than you do yourself, and you enjoy that more.”

The only indication that Estinien had heard the playful barb was a soft, short huff through his nose as he picked up a spring and wiped it down with a rag sprayed with a cleaning and lubricating oil. The courier always thought of him when they smelled that stuff; slightly chemical, somewhat of oil, but more than that was something clean and dangerous. He was the only one who wasn’t wearing a jacket, as it had been slung carelessly over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows. He was also the only one in the room who didn’t wear a tie, his first few shirt buttons instead undone, but the sight _was_ rather nice, so the courier couldn’t argue. They also idly wondered if the reason he always wore all black was to hide the stains, as the sniper’s hands were slightly greased and patched with carbon residue from cleaning his weapon, going all the way up his wrist, with a smudge on the bridge of his nose where he had apparently scratched but not noticed he had left a mark, and nobody had bothered to tell him yet. The sniper rifle was completely stripped to its bare parts, like a hunter’s kill being dressed and prepared, but there was a strange precision to the manner in which the parts were laid out. He had a rugged, somewhat feral air that many people found charming, and the courier also wondered how he had managed to _not_ get any of what he was doing in the silvery-white hair that hung past his shoulders and in his face.

Snickering, the man in charcoal and silver shifted his smirk to Estinien. “Nope, that was the shorter rifle, the 7.62, this one’s Gae Bolg, the fifty cal, but you _are_ right, he plays with this more than he does himself, and I really wish he’d show himself some more attention, maybe he’d be less grumpy.”

Once more they were ignored, and the courier laughed, also taking in the leather holster around Estinien’s chest and the one around his waist, holding three automatic pistols between them. “Fucking Fury, you guys must spend half of your operating budget on ammo, is he carrying both a 9mm and a .45?”

“Two fourty-fives, a nine mil, and a revolver, just in case, that’s the one that’s strapped to his thigh.”

Bending over a little to look under the table, the courier noticed a final weapon where it had been described and let out a low whistle. From behind the desk came a soft, warm chuckle. “You would be surprised, he never misses. He makes every shot count.” The courier turned to the man behind the desk, who had finished writing his reply and the ink had dried. He put a few papers into the envelope again before closing it and handing it back. “Thank you, this is good news, and please be safe on your travels. Ah, lovely timing, Ysayle! Have you time enough for a cup of tea before you depart?”

The smile became chagrined as they tucked away the envelope in the bag when a woman entered from an internal door, holding a tea tray. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a few more runs to get done before I’m free. Hey, Haurchefant, we’re still on for drinks later, right? There’s a karaoke place that my friend dragged me to last week and I wanna hear you embarrass yourself.”

Groaning in good humor, Haurchefant ran his fingers through the spiky, messy hair again. “Ugh, I can’t believe I lost that bet. Yeah, we’re still on, I’ll call you when I can leave, we’ve got a meeting later and I’m the chauffeur.”

“Pff, chauffeur nothing, you’re a pilot, you can go where you gods-damn well please when you want to. Anyway, laters!”

Haurchefant grinned as they left, but the moment the door closed he sighed and took on a serious air. “So, what’s the fucker with the pointy hat want now?”

“Mind your language,” huffed Ysayle, who had come in with a tray of tea cups, a full pot, and things to add to it, which she set carefully on the desk, “we all may distrust and possibly dislike him but there’s no call for that sort of language. Further, he _is_ Aymeric’s father.”

Rolling his eyes and snorting loudly, Haurchefant folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. “He might have been his _father_ but he wasn’t his _dad,_ master Borel raised him, not that bearded bitch- OW!” He reached up and rubbed a pointed ear where she had tweaked it, giving him a sharp, cold look. She had earned the callsign “Iceheart” very early on, and her aesthetic reflected it; dressing in icy whites and blues (the same colors as her hair and eyes), her suit jacket and very short skirt were shimmery and cold-looking, but she also wore thigh-high boots with two-inch heels in black leather that laced all the way up, making many people stop to stare (and often walk into something if they hadn’t stopped walking first). Even her lipstick was a shimmering, pale blue, which somehow never smudged or transferred to anything (even now, when having tea!).

She poured for all of them, letting everyone add to their cups what they wanted, putting only a bit of cream in hers before sitting down primly, one ankle crossed over the other. “Regardless, we have better things to discuss than idle gossip, it seems that you received that reply swiftly, Aymeric, shall we-”

Another knock at the door silenced all conversation, and once more Lucia answered, with Haurchefant relaxing against the wall but reaching for a throwing dagger, and Estinien shifting his shoulders a little to put the loaded .45 on his left side within easy draw range. Opening the door, a woman with a black ponytail, a cheeky grin, and a full set of riding leathers in dark brown strode in, her helmet under her arm. Everyone relaxed once more, and Haurchefant waved at the arrival. “Hilda! We’re getting all sorts of lovely company today, how goes it with the Hounds today?”

Hilda dropped her helmet on the desk with a dull thud (earning a short glare from Ysayle for nearly knocking the papers on the desk a little askew), unzipping her riding jacket to pull out a large envelope, similar to the one that the courier had carried. “I’ve got yer intel, that’s how it goes. The Horde is moving again, the scaly bastards, and they’re moving into your territory.” She handed the envelope to Aymeric, who, like last time, inspected the contents, which were a series of photographs, presumably of this “Horde,” and Estinien finally looked up from what he was doing.

“Then… Nidhogg is finally back,” he hissed, and at Hilda’s nod he clenched his fist, snarling as the firing pin he had been cleaning dug into his palm. “At last, I can finally…”

“Aye, you’ll get yer revenge,” Hilda replied, going to the window and glancing outside, “he made a damn mess of the Brume, and that’s in city limits. Areas like yours? I don’t blame you, I want to see him dead just as bad, though I admit my interest is more in getting that fucker with the pointy hat either dead or out of my fucking city.”

“ _Language,_ ” Ysayle snapped again, and Hilda stuck her tongue out at her.

“Hey, how goes it, Dragonfucker?”

Ysayle’s lips compressed into a tight, thin line for a moment before she snorted and sipped her tea. “I can’t complain, Bitch.”

Haurchefant looked confused. “Okay, how can you get up _my_ ass but not hers? And not in the way I want, either!”

Giving him a look that should have frozen his tea, she sniffed with dignity. “She is the leader of the Hounds, as such, it is a title and a term of endearment.”

The gentle rustling of papers caught their attention, and Aymeric tapped a finger to one photograph in particular. “Him, he’s the one who speaks for Nidhogg and the Horde?”

“Aye, Midgardsormr, he’s Niddy’s daddy, and has been trying to talk down the Horde. The one with him is Vishap, Nid's champion and strongest fighter, and she’s been trying to push for a full-on war. They’ve been seen with Nidhogg at-”

There was a loud bang and a clatter as Estinien got to his feet, slamming his fist on the table and making rifle pieces rattle. “You know where he is and you didn’t say earlier, why-”

“Patience, dearest,” Aymeric soothed, “you will have your vengeance soon enough, but it isn’t enough to simply cut the head off of the wyrm, we must destroy the entire Horde lest it plant hidden roots in my city.” There was a soft, subtle emphasis on “my,” and Aymeric added cream and a teaspoon of birch syrup to his tea. “Further, it might be possible to set the Horde against the Holy See if we are clever enough. Let our enemies tire themselves out and spend their own resources against one another while we bolster the city and its people.”

“That’s another thing I wanted to mention,” Hilda said, pulling out a slip of paper from a different pocket, “Sephanivien’s been experimenting with some new weapons and has just started mass-producing them. We’re moving a shipment tonight.”

Lucia took the paper and noted what was written on it, then handed it back. With a sage nod and an understanding smile, Aymeric sipped his tea as he leaned back in the high-backed, comfortable chair. “Ah, is he now? Such a clever, hard-working man. It is interesting how he comes up with such effective designs. And it would also be interesting if an unmarked van just so happened to be parked by the Manufactory tonight, completely unlocked and the keys in the glove box, ready to move crates and materiel. Of course, I am simply speculating, this city is quite wonderful like that.”

Grinning hard enough to connect her ears, Hilda put the paper away and zipped up her jacket. “Aye, this city certainly is interesting, isn’t it? Well, I’ll let you all get back to your tea, but if you were to pop on out to Falcon’s Nest and stand around a bit you might be able to run into those two and work something out…” Grabbing her helmet, she tucked it under her arm and let herself out.

With a deep sigh, Haurchefant drank the last of his tea and put the cup on the tray. “I’ll go spin up the bird, then, radio check in ten.” He leaned over the desk, gently cupping the back of Aymeric’s neck to kiss him softly. “I don’t like this, be careful, okay?”

Aymeric brushed Haruchefant’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “I must ask the same and more of you, dear, our last meeting with the Ward nearly ended badly.” He pressed his other hand to Haurchefant’s chest, his voice getting softer. “Zephirim’s aim was far too true, and your armor barely strong enough. I thought that I had lost you.”

Brushing away the single tear that threatened to mar the color of those bright blue eyes, Haurchefant kissed the other man’s forehead. “He had aimed for you, love, and I live to serve. You are the city’s future and I will give my all to protect that, and you.”

“I pray that it will not come to such things.” Another kiss, then he straightened up, leaving through the same door from which Ysayle had entered.

Estinien was halfway through reassembling Gae Bolg, and Ysayle finished her tea as well, standing and adjusting her skirt before following Haurchefant. Lucia grabbed Aymeric’s trench coat from the rack behind his desk; in the same dark blue he favored, it was accented with gold buttons and buckles, complementing his tall, slim figure. He stood and allowed himself to be helped into it, shrugging it into place, then pulling out a pair of fingerless gloves from a pocket and putting them on. “Well, let us be away, then. I do hope that this goes well, while I have no love for the Horde I do wish to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”

The dark snort from Estinien hinted that the other man wished for the opposite, and Aymeric couldn’t help but smile. Grabbing the jacket that had been draped over his chair, he put it over his arm next as he wiped his hands off on a clean rag, somehow not getting anything where it shouldn’t go, then picked up Gae Bolg and shouldered it. “Do not hesitate to give the signal,” he said, “I will only fire at your command, but…”

Smiling, Aymeric now caressed the sniper’s cheek, and despite himself, Estinien leaned into it. “Of course, dearest. I am no fool, I will not risk our lives, and I will not suffer any aggressor to live. That said, I will allow them to act first. It makes us look better, remember?” He chuckled when Estinien huffed agreement, then pulled him in for his own kiss. It was much rougher than Haurchefant’s, but there was a sort of possessive passion to it that always left him slightly breathless. “Go, join the others and get ready. We’ll get in position.”

An hour later Aymeric stood in the open park area at Falcon’s Nest, his scarf wrapped securely against the biting winter wind. He appeared to not notice the cold, despite the way his coat tugged and flapped at his ankles, and the fact that he wore black leather dress shoes instead of the boots the rest of his team favored. In fact, he seemed to notice little until three figures began to approach. He put a finger to his earpiece, murmuring something to the rest of the team, and Lucia gave them a quick glance of scrutiny before continuing to watch everything else; she wasn’t the best bodyguard in Ishgard for nothing.

The taller of the three persons was old and bald, but appeared to be in good health despite it, with sharp, watching eyes, dressed in a heavy coat and boots; he didn’t appear to be bothered to admit that it was really bloody cold out, and adjusted his hat and scarf when the wind shifted. “Midgardsormr, I presume?” asked Aymeric in a neutral tone once he had judged that they had come close enough, and the trio stopped where they were, understanding the need to keep distance between themselves.

“Correct, sir Aymeric, you appear to have done your research. As such you know why we were here.” The female with him was a strong, muscular sort, somewhat resembling Lucia in that respect, but where Lucia was steel and silent confidence, the woman with Midgardsormr appeared ready to break into violence at any moment to break anything she could get her hands on. This was definitely Vishap. Lucia spared a second glance for the third member of their party; clearly a young man, itching and eager for an opportunity to make a name for himself. He could be trouble, and it was her turn to whisper something into her earpiece before resuming her sentry duty.

Nodding politely, Aymeric folded his hands behind his back, standing comfortably and without a care. “That I do. And I shall make my position clear and blunt: leave.”

The young man growled in his throat, and Vishap made a small gesture at him, apparently to tell him to wait, and he begrudgingly obliged. Midgardsormr sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I cannot say that I am surprised, but I am also not pleased. My desire for peace is genuine.”

“As is mine, and that peace will be easier to obtain if I have fewer obstacles in my path as I take control of my city. Therefore, while I thank you for your time, any further discussions will be a waste of both of ours, so it is best that we part on neutral terms now lest hostilities ensue. We are busy men and I am certain that you will want to report back to your son to attempt to convince him to change his course. Of course, he will not, and will inevitably attempt to assault my city and provoke me into war. This will lead to countless casualties, all of them needless, even if some of those are of the See as well.” Aymeric smiled charmingly. “You have quite the task ahead of you, so it is best that I let you get to it rather than stand about chattering in the cold.”

Angry at the way that Midgardsormr had been so casually and condescendingly dismissed, the youth drew a knife and charged at Aymeric. Vishap tried to grab at him but missed, and the young man swiftly closed the distance. With an annoyed sigh, Aymeric raised his hand and motioned to someone unseen. Lucia didn’t even turn around when the boy suddenly became a cloud of pink and red fluid and chunks, staining the snow in a ghastly, gristly mess. Midgardsormr gasped, and Vishap staggered back; he had simply _exploded._ It was a full second afterward that the telltale _CRACK_ of a sniper round shattered the frozen silence.

Removing a handkerchief from his coat pocket, Aymeric wiped away a couple of drops of blood from his shoe and put it away, his eyes as cold as the snow that began to fall around them. “I will not hold his actions against you, however, my patience is now spent.”

“Sweet Ratatoskr!” hissed Vishap, looking around, “where the _fuck_ -”

“His rounds fire faster than the speed of sound,” Aymeric explained in a clipped tone, “and as such the impact will happen before it can be heard if he is shooting from farther than a mile away. Further, he uses a very large caliber, which tends to result in something that he fondly calls a ‘pink mist,’ to which you have now borne witness. Lastly, he has now sighted in his range, and he is very, _very_ protective of me.”

Taking the dismissal, Midgardsormr tipped his hat respectfully and gripped Vishap’s arm firmly, backing away. “I see, this has been enlightening. A good day to you, sir Aymeric, I am disappointed that we could not come to terms, but perhaps we shall at a later date.”

“Perhaps.”

The two members of the Horde retreated as quickly as dignity (and the snow) would allow, and Lucia finally gave the remains of the third Horde member a look of contempt. "Utter shite, they were testing us, they knew that he’d do that and expected him to die. They wanted to see our resolve and capabilities.”

“And they have both," Aymeric replied, watching a black helicopter approach, “this was a show of power on our end, we shall see theirs next. And then they shall have their war. However, they have greatly underestimated us. I will have this city, _my_ city, and I will not tolerate any who harm those who dwell within it. The Holy See already made their mistake when they tried to kill me.”

Lucia snarled at the memory of Aymeric clutching Haurchefant to his chest, running to the car while Estinien and Ysayle provided cover fire, both men covered in blood and one barely breathing… “They nearly killed him.”

“Worse, they failed to kill me. How absolutely sloppy. I cannot abide that.”

A voice came over their earpieces as the helicopter slowed and hovered overhead, dropping lines down to them. “The skies are clear, love, come on up, we’ve got overwatch.”

Putting one foot in the steel loop at the end of the line, he clipped the carabiner to his belt and secured it, then drew his pistol from the holster under his coat, providing his own security as the winch in the Chocobo lifted him into the air. He holstered the weapon when the winch stopped, stepped into the helicopter, unclipped himself, then sat down and buckled himself into one of the seats. Lucia was right behind him, closing the door once the winch mechanism had been retracted into the vehicle and strapping in. “We’re in, Haurchefant, head out,” she said over her earpiece, giving him a thumbs-up, and the pilot returned the gesture as he tilted the collective down and nudged the helicopter into forward flight, devouring the distance back to the office.

Ysayle and Estinien didn’t even look up; the spotter was strapped to her own chair next to the other open door, scanning the area with her scope, and Estinien was flat on the deck of the aircraft, wearing a safety harness in case of emergency, and Gae Bolg likewise tethered. He wasn’t looking through his sights at the moment, but he likewise was watching for danger, ready to put the weapon to his shoulder and destroy anyone who would threaten them. Ysayle smirked and nudged his leg with her toe. “Don’t you ever feel anything when you end someone like that?”

“Only recoil,” Estinien replied, patting his weapon.


	2. Promises Kept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //It _was_ supposed to be a one-shot, and then I had SO MANY IDEAS, and people want to hear them, and... And once I did a naughty little follow up for Estimeric Week ([In Good Spirits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894726)), I knew I'd have to continue and finish this project. Could be three more chapters, could be ten; I have no idea how to shortfic, and I have SO MANY IDEAS that just keep building up and they are SO DAMN GOOD. Also, I am far too pleased with myself for that acronym. My geek credentials are validated. :3
> 
> Have a link for it and learn something new and interesting: [Hypercharge](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypercharge)!//

Sitting upright in bed, propped up by comfortable pillows, Aymeric was reading a book on his tablet, the lights dimmed so as not to disturb his partner. Estinien slept next to him on his side with a pillow hugged to his chest, his back pressed up against Aymeric's leg. Now and then Aymeric would reach down to stroke his hair lovingly, a bit like one pets a cat, and each time Estinien made a happy noise in his sleep, making the other man smile. He glanced at the time on his tablet and noted to himself that Haurchefant should be home soon, and he smiled again a few minutes later when he heard the familiar footsteps of his other husband coming down the hall. Between that and the slightly off-key (if enthusiastic) rendition of what had likely been his final karaoke piece of the night, he had clearly had a _very_ good time, and was most definitely still slightly intoxicated.

"And oh, I know, the world of Real Emotion has surrounded me, I won't give into it..." The song stopped for a moment as the singer took a moment to compose himself, and Aymeric stifled a chuckle. The door to the bedroom door opened slowly, and Haurchefant grinned to see Aymeric still awake. "Hey, love," he whispered, "looks like you wore him out early."

Stroking Estinien's hair again, Aymeric tapped his tablet to save his place before turning it off and setting it aside. "Rather, he very nearly wore _me_ out. I shall never view a glass of scotch again without some form of arousal."

Haurchefant had been unbuttoning his shirt, and he gave his husband a curious look. "Oh _really_ now..." While he carefully undressed, Aymeric described Estinien's extremely creative technique earlier, and Haurchefant snickered as he hung up his trousers, shirt, and coat. "Seems like I missed a deliciously naughty evening. But I come with good news." He stripped his socks and smalls, discarding them into the laundry hamper, and paused to yawn and stretch, feeling a little tired from the evening.

Gesturing to the mini-fridge in the room, Aymeric leaned back against his backrest of pillows. "I made certain that you had a bottle of tomato juice in there, just in case. I know that you try to pay attention but sometimes...your merriment overcomes your judgement." With a groan of relief, the other man gratefully took the mentioned bottle from the fridge and chugged it quickly, and Aymeric took the time to admire him; that toned, firm muscle and sculpted form were the envy and desire of all with whom he flirted, and no matter how often Aymeric traced his hands across him it was never enough. "Good news? As I recall you went out with some of the Scions tonight?"

"Mm, yeah," replied Haurchefant, sighing happily, then drank a bottle of water afterward, "they're in. They've got full access to all of the See's systems and have been gathering intel and generating plans for weeks now."

Aymeric sat up straighter, gasping softly. "Then...it was a success, they were able to-"

"Yeah, the mission nearly got me killed, but it was worth it, that was an unexpected distraction and damn if it didn't cause enough chaos to let them install Y.D.A. onto their network and cover their tracks afterward." He sighed and sagged, putting the second empty bottle on top of the fridge next to the other one, then staggered toward the bed. "I knew we were walking into something dangerous, but... _fuck_ , I didn't expect them to try to take a shot at you like that. I... Fury's icy tits, I thought I was going to die..." Getting into bed, he snuggled up against Aymeric, head on his shoulder and arms around him, drawing strength from his husband. "And all I could think was, gods, I'm glad it's me and not him... Doctor Rhul is amazing, I've no idea how she put me back together like that, and with just this to show for it."

He traced the scar in the middle of his chest, and Aymeric put a hand over his. "Had I known that they had prepared such a trap I would never have walked in, regardless of the tactical and logistical advantage that-"

Haurchefant interrupted him with a warm and lingering kiss, then pressed their foreheads together as he played with a lock of midnight-dark hair. "It's okay. It worked out in the end, and they tipped their hand too soon. We have the advantage now. Especially since Ysayle texted me to let me know that Hraesvelgr is open for the talk of alliances tomorrow. Further, Steph and his crew got the van and delivered the weapons, and the Hounds have armed themselves with some and are distributing the rest right now. It's all almost ready, love, you're going to do it." He pressed a hand to Aymeric's face, eyes shining in the low light, wide and dark from both it and desire. "The city is almost yours."

"And your ass will be mine if you don't stuff it," Estinien mumbled, having been awoken by the conversation despite their efforts to be quiet. Huffing with amusement, Haurchefant leaned over to spank him roughly, making the other man jump and sit halfway up to glare at him.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," he snickered, "and anyway, I thought you'd rather have my mouth. You're so fond of making me shut up like that, and-" It was his turn to be interrupted when Estinien rolled over the rest of the way and knotted his fingers into the silvery-blue hair, pulling him down for a rough kiss. "Mm, you still have some left in you even after that little trick with the scotch? I wonder-"

He was silenced with another kiss, and he moaned into it, allowing himself to be used and pleasured by both men, and it was quite some time later before they exhausted themselves and curled up at last for sleep. Estinien now slept curled up around Aymeric, who hugged Haurchefant close, the other man's face pressed into his neck, tracing his fingers up and down his back. Warm and content, they dozed off quickly, waking to their alarm as usual the next morning. This morning, however, Aymeric wore a more determined air than usual, and Estinien and Haurchefant exchanged a glance of silent understanding; the plan was nearing the end game, and it was going to be much more dangerous than before.

As per Ysayle's message, they prepared to meet with her and Hraesvelgr that morning, getting dressed and ensuring that they would be presentable. Aymeric buckled on Naegling, the de Borel heirloom sword, adjusting the fit of the belt over his hips, then secured the strap around his thigh to keep the scabbard from bouncing about as he walked. He drew it to admire it, then went through a couple of quick forms to limber up before sheathing it once more. The long, slightly curved blade was a blueish color with a strange pattern almost etched into the smooth metal, a natural result of its creation. Its composition and method of forging had been lost to time, but even after all of this time it still remained sharp and unmarred, and in his hand he brought swift, elegant death as he cut through anything in his path.

Haurchefant gestured to it as he and Estinien geared up with their own personal weapon load-outs. "So it's just fine for us to waltz in there armed to the teeth? I'd think that it would be insulting or dangerous."

Aymeric smiled beatifically and adjusted his coat before pulling on his fingerless gloves. "In most cases, yes, but Hraesvelgr is a dragon, and an old one. He respects disciplined strength. If we were to come in unarmed we would insult him by insinuating that we think he is too weak to repel an attack from us. But by coming armed with the weapons with which we are skilled then we are demonstrating that we are confident in their use and the readiness to use them should a threat arise. Now, were we to draw upon him we would provoke offense by violating the rules of hospitality, and _that_ is an even greater sin than implying weakness."

Chuckling, Haurchefant shrugged, and Estinien said nothing, ensuring his own weapons were holstered and that he had a couple of spare magazines stashed about his person (as well as a fast-loader for the revolver). "Fair enough, I just want to make sure I don't arse it up when we go there, since that's the half of the dragon faction we want to play nice with."

With another smile, Aymeric kissed them both gently and led the way to the helicopter pad on the top floor. "It will be fine, love, this is all formalities and keeping face. Hraesvelgr has all but pledged his forces to support our own, this is simply the visible diplomacy that we want the Horde and the See to observe. Ah, and speaking of them..."

Estinien fell into step next to him, Gae Bolg resting on one shoulder as they walked, and Haurchefant nodded, confirming Aymeric's information. "Correct, the Hounds were able to stage a small attack in See territory last night. Those new weapons have a, heh, fire mode that launches flame, and the damage looks remarkably similar to that of dragon fire. As such, a bit after that there was a probing attack on the Horde defenses, and oh, wouldn't you know it, the tracks in the snow match the tread of the boots that the Ward wear. Last update from ten minutes ago is there isn't any outward fighting or hostility yet, but there is a lot of network chatter in both of their systems, and it seems that they both have taken the proverbial bait."

With an amused snort, Estinien rolled his eyes. "I can't believe they both feel for such a swiving obvious trick. And when did we get access to the Horde network?"

"You were out scouting something in Ala Mhigo, dearest, when you destroyed that large cannon that the Garleans were building on the borders, remember?" reminded Aymeric, "and thankfully the Horde's network security is dreadfully dismal in comparison to the See, so Y.D.A. has been in their system for quite some time, and we have an excellent picture of everything they have."

He did remember, because his dark, rumbling laugh was laced with mirth; that cannon had made a _very_ satisfying explosion when he blew it up, and once more he almost considered branching out into explosives, but then decided again to leave that to someone a bit more versed in chemistry and therefore less likely to end up short a couple of fingers. "Fine, you have tea and cake, I'll make sure nobody tries to kill us."

"You almost sound as though you hope someone will," Aymeric teased, and Estinien grinned and reached over to pinch Aymeric's bottom.

"Damn right, what's the point of all of this ammunition if it's not going to get used? ...Just..." He stopped and grabbed the other man by the arm, and both he and Haurchefant paused, looking surprised at the sniper's worried expression. "...Be careful, please. I know you both have armor on, and it's something, but it's only really good against lighter calibers, and you don't have helms, and..." He swore softly and actually put Gae Bolg down to wrap Aymeric in a protective hug. "You two scared the swiving shite out of me after that mission. For a minute I thought I had lost you both and..."

Aymeric returned the hug, and smiled when he felt Estinien gesture for Haurchefant to join them. This level of affection was completely unexpected, and he wanted to encourage it. "I will do my best, dearest. I have calculated and planned as best that I can, and I have the best guards I can ask for between you two and Lucia. But...there are things for which I cannot account, and all that I can do is ensure that their effects are mitigated and that we have alternate options." This reassured Estinien, and he gave them a kiss that was much warmer and vulnerable than either of them could remember, but they didn't remark on it. "Our flight paths are only known to the flight controllers that are loyal to Hraesvelgr's faction, and they always alert us of potentially hostile craft in our airspace. You have eyes on external threats, and Haurchefant is the best pilot in Ishgard. I will not be complacent, but I will be confident. Now, let us go have a bit of breakfast and talk politics."

Half an hour later they landed, exiting the Chocobo as they were greeted by Ysayle and Vidofnir, one of the eldest of Hraesvalgr's brood. She was tall and imposing, and like her sire she was pale but healthy; a radiant white, not sickly. Delicate scales of silvery white on her skin caught the light as she nodded to them in greeting, and her waist-length hair was tidily tied and braided back, twining around two horns that curled around from behind and under her ears. Simple garments in clean lines accentuated her figure, and were open in back to allow for the great, feathered wings for which her line was known. Haurchefant bit his lip, definitely wanting to tease, but knew better. Besides, he'd already asked someone else if the mysterious Au Ra that had started to emigrate to the area were actually half-dragons, and the long-suffering, frustrated sigh he had gotten was not only _not_ an answer, but piqued his curiosity further. Aymeric bowed respectfully, greeting their guide. "Vidofnir, it is good to see you once more. Before we begin please accept my thanks for all that you have done to ensure our alliance and to arrange this meeting with Hraesvelgr. This benefits us all, and I sincerely hope that both dragons and mortals can share a city together in peace and prosperity."

She huffed a soft chuckle, amused but pleased. "Thy honeyed words are sweet but best saved for my sire. Still, I thank thee for thy courtesy and manners." Like all dragons, her voice was deeper than one expected, and one could swear that there were multiple tones in it, with the way that the sound seemed to reverberate in one's ears after they were done speaking. "Please, follow me, he awaits thy arrival and the opportunity to discuss thine alliance."

The residence was very open-air, which would be considered strange by most Coerthans, but dragons of Hraesvelgr's brood did not feel the weather the way most mortals did, and preferred open skies and fresh air, even when it was this cold this time of year. In the courtyard in the middle of the villa a small table and chairs was set, and Hraesvelgr waited there, face turned toward the sun, the picture of serenity. Opening one eye halfway, he regarded them out of the corner of it, then stood with fluid grace despite his age. Like all of his line he was the color of moonlight and snow, and shone as such in the light. Similar to Vidofnir, his hair was pulled back in ornate braids, twining around his own horns that framed his face, and his raiment was very much of Eastern influence, in subtly embroidered silks that fitted him snugly, save for his exposed back, though his wings were shape-shifted away. Hands folded behind himself, he watched them approach, and appeared satisfied with the polite, deferential bow that Aymeric and Haurchefant made, and Estinien tried to mimic (without dropping Gae Bolg).

"I have heard of thine exploits," he said, gesturing for them to join him at the table, "and I am pleased with thine efforts. As promised, thou shalt have thine alliance." His voice was rich and deep, and they felt it as much as they heard it, shivering pleasantly as they followed their host and sat down. He paused to take Ysayle's hand and kiss it chastely, and Aymeric smiled at the shared look of devotion they shared. "While I have long sought other methods to bring about resolution, it seems as though conflict is our only course." Picking up the cup of tea that he had been drinking before they arrived, he took a slow, measured sip while they prepared their own drinks, and Vidofnir stood behind him, relaxed but ready. "Thy parley with my brood-brother was observed by many, as is thine arrival at my home. All know of thy position and plans, and they plan their moves accordingly. The time for deliberation and talks hath passed, and it is time for action. When the time for battle comes thou shalt have my full strength to wield as thine own. Vidofnir will lead the Dravanian forces in my stead, as thou hast other plans for mine involvement."

Aymeric smiled again, this time one of pleased satisfaction of a plan coming together. "That I do, lord Hraesvelgr, I would ask you to petition an audience with my- with Thordan if it is possible." His slip did not go unnoticed, but they all politely ignored it, as there was not a person among the factions who had not heard of the failed peace talks that nearly cost both him and Haurchefant their lives. While he had in the past sometimes referred to the leader of the Holy See as his father, he now only mentioned him by his title or position, not in relation. They all knew where the both of them stood, and Thordan had made it terrifyingly transparent that he had no interest in compromise, only conquest.

Hraesvelgr studied the younger man's face once more, then put down his cup to fill it. "I see, that is thy gambit. I await thy plans for me, but in the meantime, I trust that thou shalt keep Vidofnir abreast of all developments."

"We will be discussing the nature of communications and interfacing together all of our respective factions this afternoon," Aymeric replied, stirring his tea, "and as you have likely been informed, we have full access to both the Horde and See, and can draw up battle plans once the Scions have been able to compile a plan of action. Urianger has drawn up a preliminary plan, and they have already leaked false plans to be discovered. Several of them, in fact, and all with a grain of truth, so that none of them can be truly dismissed as erroneous or decoys."

Chuckling warmly, the sound a rich, resonant, rumble, Hraesvelgr sipped his freshly-poured drink. "My forces hath discovered such things already, and the confusion that they hath wrought amongst our foes is most interesting."

They conversed a while longer, sharing idle pleasantries as well as immediate plans, and when the three of them returned to the office a little while later, both Estinien and Haurchefant noticed the way that he sagged into his seat once buckled in as the helicopter took off. "...It is done, the final piece to complete our puzzle. With the intelligence and plans provided by the Scions we can move forward." Estinien stroked Aymeric's cheek, not sure if the man needed support or not, and smiled softly to see him press into the touch with a gentle sigh. "Justice shall be done for all of our people. And you will have your vengeance, my dearest. The land and its people will soon be able to heal..."

In the conference room, Aymeric studied the reports that had been brought to him by Lucia a few minutes earlier. She had spent the entire night with Hilda, first staging the attack on the See, then the Horde territory, then back to Hound-leader's place to finally celebrate their anniversary. Aymeric politely did not inquire about the nature of their celebration, but if she was anything like him, then he had a fair idea of what they had been doing, especially given the satisfied, almost smug air she wore. Once more Haurchefant wanted so badly to tease, but he had been on the receiving end of her taser before, and she had used it someplace that had left him walking and talking funny for a full ten minutes. As such he was full of pent-up mirth and energy when he escorted the Scions in, securing the door and leaning on the wall next to it, just in case...

Nearly the entire complement of Scions was there, and Aymeric set aside his reading material, standing to greet them and welcome them to his table. "My friends, it is good to see you once more, and your news has brought me much relief. That our work is already showing results is proof of your hard work and skill. But before we begin, Doctor Rhul, once more I must offer my most sincere gratitude for saving his life. I feel ashamed for having given up hope, but I had thought his injuries beyond the abilities of mortals to mend."

The Miqo'te woman in a long coat and a smartly tailored suit folded her arms across her chest, looking very proud, and rightly so. "I've never had someone need that much blood and still survive the operation before. And I've not been in surgery for that long in a very long time, either. I'll be quite happy to not have either of those records broken for quite a while."

Haurchefant relaxed a little, grateful for the presence of the person who had saved his life, then noticed Thancred studying him, and gave the other man a grin. Thancred returned it, offering a fistbump, which was returned in turn; the both of them had a very similar aesthetic and fighting style, though Thancred preferred green to Haurchefant's blue, and while he carried firearms, he was much more well-known for a very impressive number of knives and daggers about his person, and it was a wonder that he never stabbed anyone by accident when just hugging them. They were also fiercely devoted to (and romantically involved with) the persons that they served, and Thancred also wore the same sunglasses that his partner did. Further, while Urianger dressed in a similar fashion, he also sported a waistcoat under his suit jacket, all in clean white with black accents for contrast. The Elezen man removed those sunglasses and folded them, tucking them into a breast pocket as he nodded politely to Aymeric.

"Forgive my hasty request for a meeting, Lord Commander, but thou hast heard of our success, and we must needs take advantage of such an advantageous opportunity."

Aymeric gestured for them to take a seat around the conference table, taking his own seat once more and folding his hands in his lap as he crossed an ankle over one knee, a subtle sign to all present that this was to be informal. "Precisely why I agreed to meet as soon as you were available, Archon Aurgelt, and please, do not worry about that title, I no longer bear it."

Seated comfortably, Urianger rested his elbows on the table and his chin on folded hands. "'Twas that not thy title in the past? One that thou hast earned, and with distinction? I would see thee accorded the respect that thou art due."

Looking away for a moment as his lips twisted at a particular memory, Aymeric did not reply immediately. "It was a rank that I worked hard to attain, and one that I wore with pride. But it was bestowed before I knew the true extent of the See's crimes, and before Thordan had decided that I was too much a liability. Perhaps later I shall wear it once more, but until then, I am simply Aymeric de Borel, and I serve the city and its people, _all_ people."

"Very well, sir Aymeric," Urianger replied with the ghost of a smile, "let us speak instead of the future. As thou art aware, Papalymo hath penetrated their systems most thoroughly-" He paused when Haurchefant broke into a fit of barely-smothered giggles, and squeaked when Estinien did something that nobody could quite see, but apparently did the job of getting him to stop, as well as blush to his ear tips. With a short huff through his nose, Urianger continued. "Their system is massive and complex, and the Vault itself much more so. Despite this, we hath obtained all of the information that will benefit our mission."

This was apparently Papalymo's cue, and he nodded as he finished uploading information from a data stick to the display in the center of the table. Adjusting the monocle-visor over his right eye, he stood up and tapped a couple of buttons on the back of a strange, wired gauntlet on his left hand and arm. Schematics appeared on the table-screen, and everyone leaned closer to get a better look. As he talked, he shifted between floors, rotating to change angles and zooming in and out to show particular features. "Terribly sorry that it took me so long to build this, but the See produces a simply astounding level of data every day, and learning to sift out the digital chaff from the wheat was somewhat daunting. Thankfully, Y.D.A. is highly adaptable, and in only a couple of days was able to isolate what was most important and useful to us, and what was simply maintenance data, chatter, or other traffic that was not of interest."

"What does that stand for, anyway?" asked Haurchefant, "I don't remember hearing of a program like that before."

With a smile that engineers get when asked to monologue about a particular favored subject, he cleared his throat and tapped a few other buttons, then waved his right hand in the air as though he were using a mouse; anyone close enough would see an augmented-reality HUD on his eyepiece, which was apparently networked to the gauntlet, an earpiece in the same ear, and a couple of sensors attached to the back of his right hand, thumb, and forefinger. "Y.D.A. is a Hypercharged Digital Assistant, and a personal creation of my own. It isn't true AI, but it has been built with machine learning in mind, and it adapts similar to how an organic mind would, but with the processing speed and power of a computer. Its hardware and server are back at the Rising Stones, but it can spall off fragments of itself as subroutines to infiltrate enemy networks, or to travel in a lightweight mode in the rig I am currently wearing." He gestured to his worn tech, looking extremely pleased with himself. "It's all quite rough, and hardly looks slick and futuristic, but it's streamlined and effective, and my primary work is to ensure that it is hardened against remote attackers, so that I can do the remote attacking myself."

"Wait, _wait_ ," interrupted Estinien, waving his hands, "'hypercharged' doesn't start with 'y,' so-"

"I'm glad you asked!" said Papalymo, now looking as though several namedays and holidays had come all at once, "H.D.A. didn't quite roll off the tongue, but in particle physics the hypercharge (which is a portmanteau of hyperonic and charge!) of a particle is a quantum number conserved under the strong interaction, and is referred to as 'Y.' And since an experimental quantum computing core is being used for its-"

"You know what, never mind, I'm sorry I asked," Estinien sighed, massaging his temples.

With a resigned sigh, apparently used to this reaction, Papalymo shrugged. "As I was saying, thanks to our joint mission I have full access to everything that is on their network. Cameras, phones, door locks, and more." Several people sat up straighter and leaned over to look at the schematics with much greater interest. "Further, I will also have _control_ over it all, and with a bit more tweaking I can install an administrator level profile that will give me the highest tier of access. When the attack is launched I will be able to use it to disable all other profiles and effectively lock the Ward out of their own system. They will be completely blind and helpless, and if we move swiftly we can end the fight before they have the chance to react."

"Will they have defenses against such a thing?" asked Aymeric, standing again, resting his weight on his fingertips as he leaned over as far as he could, devouring the information in front of him and spinning together a plan, "it would be foolish of them to not have a way to regain control over their own systems, and we would be doubly foolish to assume that they have no such ability."

Laughing, Papalymo brought up other information on the screen for him. "Truly the tactical genius of which everyone speaks. Correct, it is possible to forcibly reset the system and load from a backup, but that will _completely_ blind and weaken them, because that will take down everything they have, and leave them with little more than the overhead lights functioning. It is also not a swift process, as it is a large system, and while the profile data is small, it must propagate through the entire system, and that's _after_ it comes back up. But I have planned for such a thing; Y.D.A. can leave smaller fragments of itself in certain nodes across the network, ensuring that as soon as links are re-established with those nodes, it can propagate its own data back out and take over once more. There's much more to it, and they have other ways to circumvent my work, but what it all comes down to is that they will not be expecting anything like this. It will require tight timing between all of our teams and factions, and the ability to strike hard and fast. I still have further work to do, but Project Calamity will be ready by the time you are ready to storm the Vault."

"...Then we are in the final stages. It is nearly time." He sank back into his chair, looking somewhat dazed, then smiled, leaning back in the chair and allowing it to tilt back a little. "Forgive my loss of composure, but..."

A woman with a stocky brawler's build in form-fitting yet slightly revealing battle garments reached over to clap him on the shoulder, making him wince. She was _strong_ , and she was wearing armored gloves, as her style of combat favored fists and feet, and her outfit and armor was tailored to exactly that purpose. "Relax, Aymeric, you've been hurt bad by them several times. Hell, we don't know anyone who hasn't been screwed by the See or the Horde. We've already got them pointed at each other, and once our next bluff goes off we'll be in position to wreck them both completely."

Aymeric smiled and squeezed her hand, though she probably didn't feel it through those gloves. "Thank you, Lyse, and rest assured that you still have my promise to divert my own forces to your operation to liberate Ala Mhigo from Garlean occupation. Once Ishgard is united again and can present a combined, strong front, our strength will be yours."

Her smile softened, and she returned the hand-squeeze, though much softer so as to not injure him. "You're a good man, Aymeric. You better survive this whole mess, a lot of people look up to you, and you deserve this victory."

Thancred was also standing, looking over the schematics with the eye of a skilled infiltrator. "And you'll have that victory. I've only had a little time to look over what we've gathered, but I can chart us a flight path to the Vault and then a route into and through to Thordan and the Ward. Here, Papalymo, pull up this section, I want to make sure I'm seeing this correctly..."

Strategy, tactics, and plans were discussed for the next couple of hours, and Urianger's preliminary battle plan was now much more fleshed out with the input from Aymeric and his congregation. It was far from final, but it was much farther along, and they now had an end goal in sight. Before spring the Ward and Thordan would fall, and a new Ishgard would rise from its ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more interesting stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves! And be sure to leave kudos and comments for the people you read, too! Writers need that validation to keep making delicious, free content, all they ask to be paid in is your adoration. ;)//

**Author's Note:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more interesting stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves! And be sure to leave kudos and comments for the people you read, too! Writers need that validation to keep making delicious, free content, all they ask to be paid in is your adoration. ;)//


End file.
